Secret Passions (5 page)

He knew there were several things he still needed to accomplish today. First and foremost was explaining why he was going to be taking a few days off down at the office. He had a few meetings he knew he had to reschedule. Nothing major, just things he had to smooth over. He had a trip south next week that he’d have to reschedule as well.

“I’ve got a few more errands I need to run today. Why don’t you make up that list so I can get you what you need? I’ll be back later tonight.”

She wrote up her list and he left thirty minutes later. On his way out, he talked to John and told him to swing by and check up on Sandi so he knew she was perfectly safe. John had smiled.

“Mr. Kovich, you’ve lived in this building for over ten years. I know you would never kidnap that young woman. Besides, she walked into this building on her own, asking after you. I doubt a young woman like that would come looking for you if she didn’t already know the kind of man you were.”

He thought about John’s words as he made his way out the door. He was right. Sandi must have known he would have helped her, otherwise she would have never hunted him down.

During the short taxi ride to his office building, his mind tried to shuffle around his schedule. When he finally walked into the business he shared with Carter, he thought he had a plan and excuses he’d make to his secretary and staff.

Three hours later, he walked into a small boutique full of woman’s clothing with Sandi’s list in hand.

She’d written in a very delicate handwriting only four items.

Tennis shoes – size seven

Pair of jeans – size three

Shirts – small

Sketch pad

He smiled at the last. Well, he could probably do better than just getting her a sketch pad. There was an art supply store three buildings down. He’d make sure to get her everything she’d need to make sure her time stuck at his place would be bearable.

The first section he went to was the shoe aisle. He knew the kind of items he’d buy for himself, but had no clue what a woman would buy for herself. He’d never done any practical shopping for Suzanne. For that matter, he realized, he’d never even shopped with her for clothing. He stood in the aisle and looked at over four dozen different kind of tennis shoes.

Did she want running shoes? Walking shoes? There were so many kinds of woman’s shoes, he thought, the simple task of finding the right size was no longer the biggest issues.

“Can I help you?” Mitch turned to see a young woman with bright blue hair standing two feet away. The name tag on her shirt said, Starla.

“Yes, please. I’m looking for some shoes for my... girlfriend.” He saw Starla’s smile on her face and he felt a need to explain. “Her apartment was broken into and everything was stolen.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What kind of shoes are you looking for?”

“Tennis shoes, I think. Oh, and she’ll need some other clothes.” In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought. He might as well have this young girl help him pick out all of Sandi’s clothing.

Half an hour and two hundred dollars later, he walked down the street and entered the art supply store weighted down with bags of items. At least here, he thought, he could easily figure out what she would need. After all, how hard could it be? It was just paper and pencils, right?

An hour and several hundred dollars later, he walked out of the store with two of the art store’s employees following him. Everyone had their arms full of boxes and bags. The two boys helped him load everything into a waiting taxi and he made the short trip back home. Looking at his watch, he realized it was past seven. He’d hoped to be home before six. His feet and back hurt from all the shopping, and he doubted he’d have the energy to cook tonight.

John helped him unload the bags and boxes, and between the two of them, they managed to make it up the elevator with his packages.

When he opened his door, he was greeted with the most wonderful smells.

T
he six hours Sandi spent waiting for Mitch to come back were the longest in her life. Being limited on the things she could do had reminded her a lot of being back home. She was antsy and realized she was almost having a panic attack before she decided to get back on the treadmill.

At least when she was walking, she felt like she wasn’t completely trapped. She desperately wished for her paints. She didn’t know how Mrs. Bernstein could live trapped in the same rooms her entire life. Maybe Sandi had issues with not being able to leave a place because she’d been trapped in her house for most of her life. Since she was seven-years-old, she’d been limited in her movements. After all, her family had to protect and guide her, preparing her for her future.

But in the five years she’d lived on her own, she’d always enjoyed and marveled at her freedom to come and go. The first few months she had been on her own, she had found any reason not to be at home. She had spent hours out wandering the street markets near her apartment. She would spend hours at the library or at coffee shops or at the parks painting. She had even taken a day trip, riding the ferry across the water to visit the Statue of Liberty. It had been the most wonderful day.

After walking on the machine for over an hour, she went up and took a shower and got dressed in her own clothes again. She tried watching television, but when she’d seen her picture on the news again, she’d flipped off the set. Finally, she decided to make dinner, to do something nice for Mitch. She hadn’t baked in a long time and always enjoyed making sweets when she’d been at home.

She’d been taught how to cook and bake from some of the finest chefs and bakers in India. Why not do something nice to show Mitch her appreciation?

She decided to make a full home-style meal. Everything from chole masala, a corn and tomato dish that happened to be one of her favorites, to khoya, a rich dessert. She enjoyed making the samosas, small pie-crust triangles filled with potatoes, peas, and seasons. Then she took her time making some potato pancakes stuffed with spicy seasoned meat, a dish her mother had taught her to make to perfection. The small round disks were perfect, and she enjoyed setting them on one of his larger burnt orange plates. The colors of her meals were as important to her as the taste. As an artist she’d always found the color and texture of the food from her home as beautiful as any painting.

She got to work making prawn patties with curried cauliflower and chickpeas and set it all on a bed of white rice. She had found some green flat bowls and used those for each setting.

She followed up the patties with a tamarind fish curry. She placed the soup-like orange mixture in a dark brown square bowl she found in the back of one of his cupboards. She found some frozen salmon in his freezer and made curried salmon cakes with chopped onions and peppers to add the right mix of flavor and color.

To finish the meal off, she made khoya. Knowing it would keep her at the stove for over an hour only made it more appealing. She enjoyed matching each dish to a colored plate, and by the time she had the meal laid out, she felt like she’d used all her artistic abilities to make not only a delicious meal, but a beautiful one. She topped the table off by lighting the tier candles and turning the lights lower. Then she waited nervously for him to arrive. The table was set with a meal fit for a king, and enough food to feed the entire building floor.

John followed Mitch in the door and Sandi instantly felt shy and embarrassed.

“Wow, it sure does smell good in here.” John said, setting down the packages just inside the doorway.

Mitchell looked shocked. He stood in the doorway looking at the table and she wondered if she’d made the wrong choice of cooking so much.

“You…?” He cleared his throat, “You cooked all this?” He dropped the packages and walked to the table and looked at her. She nodded and looked down at her hands.

“It looks and smells wonderful.” He turned back and nodded to John as the older man excused himself.

She stood there, looking at her hands. He walked over and put his finger under her chin until she looked at him.

“Sandi, you didn’t have to cook all this. But I’m not going to turn any of it away. Not only does it smell delicious, it looks beautiful. I’m starving after all the shopping I’ve just done, so I might just eat every last drop myself.”

She smiled at him. Then she noticed all the boxes and packages he’d carried in. “What’s all that?”

“Oh!” he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “That, my dear, is your reward for working your fingers to the bone making all this food. But,” he held up his finger when she started walking towards the packages, “not until after I’ve eaten. I did say I was starving.” He smiled.

He wasn’t joking about eating a lot. When they had sat down, she was amazed at how quickly he cleared several plates. He talked about his work as they ate, and she told him about her artwork and how she missed painting. Even though it had only been a day since she’d painted, to her it felt like weeks.

To which he stood and smiled at her, holding his hand out. “Dessert can wait.”

She put her hand in his and he pulled her up and walked her over to the couch. “Sit.” She sat and almost laughed at him as he tried to drag several packages over to her. “Don’t open anything until I say so.”

She couldn’t help but notice that he was acting like buying things for her had given him pleasure, as well. She sat there waiting until the last package was piled around her. She was surrounded now. Large boxes sat on the floor, bags of every size crowded around her.

“You bought all this for me? I just wanted four things.”

“I know, but I’ve never gone shopping for a woman before, so I decided to over-do it.” He sat in the chair across from her and put his chin in his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees. “Plus, everything you had was pretty much destroyed in your apartment. This is just a small start to everything you needed to replace.”

“Small?” She gestured to the large pile of bags and boxes.

“You can say the same about your dinner.” He smiled as she laughed.

“True, I guess I did get carried away. I suppose I could forgive you for doing the same.”

“Well...” He motioned to the bags.

She dug in. It was the first time anyone had ever bought anything for her, especially a man she wasn’t related to. She could only remember her father giving her one gift her entire life. It was the night before her engagement. The small gold chain was a family heirloom, one she’d left behind.

Now as she opened a bag full of socks of every color and style, she wondered what he’d been thinking. “There must be over two dozen socks here.”

“Yeah, well, they were having a sale.” He smiled and grabbed a bag from the top of the pile. “Here, open this one.”

She took the bag and smiled when she opened it and found a couple pairs of jeans her size. The next bag had shirts of bright colors. Did he know she enjoyed color? He must have because the more she opened, the more she realized he had picked out items she would have purchased herself. Shirts, skirts, pants, even the shoes were all items she would have picked out.

When she reached for a box next, he stopped her. “Wait, open the boxes last.” She looked at him and she could see eagerness in his eyes. She picked up another bag and found an elegant skirt of purple silk with a matching top.

“There are dress shoes,” he searched the remaining bags and set a bag next to her. “Here.”

She slowly opened the bag and found an elegant pair of heels.

“For when you’re free of this prison. I thought you’d enjoy going out.”

She blinked back a tear. Not only had this man bought more clothes than she’d need in a year, he’d even thought to buy her a dress and heels. Something not practical, but something she’d enjoy wearing.

There was a bag of make-up and toiletries she hadn’t thought to ask for.

“
Yeah, well, I had some help picking out some items.” He said quietly when she set the bag aside. “Now, open the big box first.” He smiled again.

She had to kneel down to get to the box. He sat on the floor next to her and helped her open it. When the lid was finally removed, she stopped in shock. In the box was her easel. Well, it couldn’t have been hers, she’d seen her easel shattered in pieces on the news report as they panned around her studio.

She pulled out one of the pieces and enjoyed the smooth feel of the wood.

“I can put it together tonight.”

“Mitchell?” She was looking at the dark wood and when a tear slipped from her cheek, he leaned over and wiped it away. “You didn’t have to do any of this for me.”

“I know.”

She looked at him. His knees were touching hers as her legs were crossed, her long skirt tucked around her legs. She loved looking into his green eyes. His dusty blond hair had a slight curl to it and begged for her to run her fingers through it. He was so close, she could see small freckles on his nose and cheeks. Angel kisses. She’d always wanted angel kisses. She made the mistake of looking at his mouth and was transfixed by it. He had a slight dimple near the corner of his mouth on the right side.

“Sandi?” Her eyes traveled back to his eyes, just before he leaned over and took her mouth with his. It was her first kiss, and she was shocked at the smoothness of his lips. He smelled of spices, and when she opened her mouth, he dipped his tongue in and she tasted them and him. Her fingers were wrapped around the wood piece to her new easel, her fingers digging into the wood as his hand came up and gently ran up her neck to cup her hair and face. He tilted her head slightly and she dropped the piece of wood and gripped his shoulders. Even though she was sitting, she felt her world tilt when his mouth angled over hers, and he took her deeper then she’d ever been before.

She closed her eyes on a moan and felt her body starting to shake as his fingers gripped her hair, holding her gently to him. She never imagined it would feel like this, being this close to a man she had feelings for. She’d never denied how she felt towards Mitchell. At least not in her mind. He was her hero. The man who’d risked it all to save her. Sure, Ethan Knight had actually stuck his neck out physically, and she didn’t discount what he’d done for her, but Mitchell had crossed that line, the one that most people wouldn’t have, and he’d done it all to save her.

Ever since meeting him five years ago, she’d dreamed about him, about this. She slowly moved her fingers up his shoulders and ran them up his neck until they were where she wanted them to be, deep in his soft hair, holding him to her mouth as he continued to kiss her, causing small goose bumps all over her body.

Then he was pulling back and when she opened her eyes he was smiling at her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go too fast. I can’t believe how good you taste, how good you feel.” He leaned his forehead on hers and she closed her eyes, trying to hold onto this moment forever. But then he pulled back and scooted back, handing her another package. “Here, there’s more where that one came from.”